Umbridgitis
by Starrie Wolf
Summary: A bet going around Hogwarts for the best prank on Dolores Umbridge had the entire school involved. Hilarity ensues.
1. Take 0

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Else Umbridge will suffer a worse fate than centaurs.

**Take Zero**

It was not a secret that everyone in the castle hated Umbridge and wanted her gone. Well, everyone except Argus Filch, that was, but he did not count.

Of course, the majority of them being teenagers, they were used to getting what they want. At first, it was glares and sneers in class. They had hoped that negative pressure would subtly take its toll on her.

Umbridge was completely unaffected. In fact, she seemed to be in her own world every single time she gave a speech proclaiming the Ministry's greatness and how school children – like the little _sweethearts _ in Hogwarts – needed to learn their theory in a nice and safe environment.

That was proven once, when during a speech, she did not even notice Nearly Headless Nick walk through her.

So they resorted to public humiliation to drive home their point. Subtlety was completely lost. In fact, it had been painted in large neon letters on a banner that proclaimed "Get lost, Umbridge!" A pity that Filch took it down before she saw it.

Umbridge still did not appear to get it.

The most successful pranks, of course, had been dutifully documented in history. Everyone knew of the two major pranks by Fred and George – the fireworks and the portable swamp. However, there were many, many more that were not.

This is war.


	2. Take 1 Minerva

**Note: Refers to the actual event in the book where Minerva mutters "It unscrews the other way".**

**Take One**

Umbridge hurried down the corridor when she heard a startling crash. She rounded the corner just in time to see Professor McGonagall appear on the scene, and Peeves dashing away. A large crystal chandelier lay shattered on the floor.

"Oh dear," Professor McGonagall informed Umbridge, her tone not the slightest bit apologetic. "Well, I have a class right now, so I'll just leave you with the clean up."

"Ah, yes," answered Umbridge, too flustered at the damage to protest.

She missed the slight curl of the other witch's lips.

After spending the rest of the afternoon and evening clearing up the mess – Filch was nowhere to be found – it was well past midnight when Umbridge finally stepped into her office. She gasped in horror.

Gone!

They were gone!

Her precious pictures of cute fluffy cats were all gone!

Umbridge let loose a howl of anguish and anger.

In Gryffindor Tower, Ginny jerked up from her bed. What was that terrifying sound that she just heard? She instinctively bolted for her brother's room and leapt into a rather astonished Ron's arms.

"Ron, Ron! What's that sound?" she asked rapid-fire style. "Is that Voldemort? Or the Death Eaters? Is a contingent of giants attacking? Did Dad forget Mum's birthday again?"

Back in her own office, Professor McGonagall took particularly vindicative pleasure in smashing every single one of them. Cats were proud majestic creatures. They were never meant to be forced into _unnatural _positions like that.


	3. Take 2 Ginny

**Take Two**

"All right, class, today we'll be studying unicorns," Professor Grubby-Plank announced cheerfully, leading them to an enclosure with a herd of unicorns penned within. She briefly explained that unicorns have an aversion to males, causing most of the males in the class to sigh.

"Girls, step forward!" she added, ending her speech.

Umbridge, who was overseeing the class since Professor Grubby-Plank was still new, nodded approvingly. Unicorns. That was the kind of class she liked. Cute, innocent, safe and most importantly Ministry-approved, totally unlike that _half-giant_ before.

Seeing the rest of the girls crowded around the unicorns, she too approached one, reaching out to pet it.

The unicorn abruptly reared back, bounding away from Umbridge with a terrified neigh. The entire herd of unicorns stiffened at the sound. Then, as one, they bolted back into the Forest, leaping over the enclosure fence in their haste to get away.

Umbridge stared in shock after them, hand still uselessly outstretched. She did not even notice Colin snap a photograph of her.

Professor Grubby-Plank turned to regard Umbridge sternly. "Unicorns only behave that way if a male with clear intentions to hurt them approaches. Is there something you wish to tell us, Professor Umbridge?"

Umbridge spluttered.

Behind her back, Ginny smirked and pocketed the spray bottle filled with angry bear pheromones.


	4. Take 3 Dean, Seamus

**Take Three**

Umbridge gaped at the new entrance to the Great Hall. A large plaque – eerily reminiscent of the numerous Ministry Decree plaques – was affixed to the top of the entrance. She squinted, reading it out slowly, "Minimum height: 160 centimetres."

Umbridge frowned. How tall was she again? She glanced around as though someone would tell her the answers – ah, there! A helpful tape measure was pinned to the wall beside the entrance. She strode over and yanked the tape down.

"159.9 centimetres," announced the tape measure in a monotone.

Gritting her teeth, Umbridge stretched out her arms, and true enough she barely touched the top of the wall in front of her. When she caught the – the _delinquents_ who dared to barricade the entrance to the Great Hall with a low wall that required a minimum height to clamber over, they would _pay_.

She was so focused on the tedious task of hoisting her bulk up the wall with her spindly arms, jumping up and down uselessly, that she was completely oblivious to the sudden increase in number of passers-by.

Ron easily flipped himself over the wall, turning around and gallantly offering Hermione – who was above the height limit anyway – a helping hand.

Harry, right behind them, stopped to lift a nearby First Year onto the wall first.

The Creevey brothers grinned at the wall, before turning to each other. "Wingardium Leviosa!" squeaked Dennis.

His brother easily floated to the top. "Very good Dennis!" cried Colin. " Your turn now, Wingardium Leviosa!"

Lee Jordan shrugged and pulled out an item from his pocket. "Collapsible step-ladders, a new product from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Makes it easier to position pranks in higher places, but I suppose it works here too," he confessed in a low voice to Angelina and Alicia, mindful of the jumping Umbridge nearby.

Justin coughed, rubbing his hands together slowly. He then dug his fingers into the crevices in the wall – which apparently had been placed there just for this purpose – and effortlessly pulled himself up. It was a good thing that his parents had insisted that he learn rock climbing. He had no wish to do something as _undignified_ as what Umbridge was doing.

Terry shrugged, flicking his wand and uttering a nifty little spell that twisted gravity all around him, allowing him to casually stroll up the wall and down the other side.

Professor Snape took one look at the obstacle, promptly turned around and made for his rooms. The House Elves delivered meals for the professors upon request, after all.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick blinked in surprise at the obstruction, then turned to stare incredulously at the bouncing Umbridge. Without another word, Professor McGonagall waved her wand once, conjuring up a miniature staircase for the two of them. Once on the other side, she smirked uncharacteristically, and promptly vanished the staircase just as hurried footsteps on the other side indicated that Umbridge had caught sight of it.

It was long after lunch had ended that Argus Filch found Umbridge, still unable to enter despite everyone else having found a method to do so. He hastily rushed off to find her a ladder, her shrill shrieks ringing down the corridor.

There was just one problem. All the ladders in the castle had mysteriously disappeared.

From the shadows, Seamus gave Dean a high-five, both grinning broadly.


	5. Take 4 Angelina, Katie, Alicia

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I do take requests and suggestions, so feel free to indulge in some Umbridge-bashing! :D**

**Take Four**

"Hem hem," Umbridge announced at dinner that night. Several students groaned loudly, but as always she appeared to possess a hearing defect right before the start of her lovely speeches.

Angelina exchanged a dark look with Alicia and Katie, who were sitting opposite her. Ever since that _woman_ – she shuddered at the insult to women – had instated herself as Headmistress, Hogwarts had been steadily going downhill.

As Umbridge droned on – something about the recent deluge of pranks in the school, if she was not mistaken – Angelina noticed Alicia discreetly pulling out her wand.

"Hem, hem," Umbridge cleared her throat again.

A sack clearly labelled 'cough drops' dropped heavily onto her head.

Umbridge let out a highly indignified squawk. "Who did that?" she demanded to know, turning to glare at the offending object that had dared to interrupt her, the Great High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. Her mouth opened in outrage when no one answered.

A cough drop bounced neatly into her mouth.

Umbridge spluttered, choking on the foreign substance in her throat.

The Great Hall dissolved into chaos and rambunctious laughter that none of the other professors bothered to quell.

Angelina raised an eyebrow at Katie, who cheerfully continued tossing cough drops into Umbridge's mouth. Her wand swished and flicked. Swished and flicked. Professor Flitwick would be so proud. "It's like a game of 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey'," she confided quietly.

Angelina had no idea what her teammate was talking about, but there was no way she was going to let the other two Chasers have all the fun. She glanced around cautiously. It would not do to get caught by one of the nosy Inquisitorial Squad members now.

Two seats away, Lee Jordan winked at her, before bending down and lobbing a couple of fireworks across the hall and onto the Slytherin Table.

Grinning and nodding at him in gratitude, Angelina took careful aim.

Umbridge screamed.

Silence fell.

All the students turned to stare at her.

Then –

"Ribbit."

With another ear-piercing shriek that rivalled a Mandrake being repotted, Umbridge waddled for the front doors, shaking her head desperately to dislodge the toad on her head.

Angelina smirked. She had been careful with her transfiguration, so only the bow on Umbridge's pink monstrosity was animated. The legs of the toad were still glued to the hairband, so there was no way shaking could displace it.

Her two teammates shot her appreciative looks. "Toads don't go 'ribbit'," Katie whispered, nudging her.

"Oops," Angelina muttered, not sounding the slightest bit sorry.

What made it all the more worthwhile was when at the end of the meal, Professor McGonagall glided past their seats and murmured out of the corner of her mouth, "Twenty points to Gryffindor each for demonstrating excellent conjuration, aim and transfiguration."


	6. Take 5 Severus, Filius

**Author's Note: For** **Volixia667****,**** who wanted to see more pranks by teachers****.**

**Take Five**

Severus Snape was not a happy man.

That – that _thing_ had the sheer utter _audacity_ to question him on his whereabouts when he did not turn up at the Great Hall promptly for lunch!

"I was unaware that staff members have to be present at all mealtimes," he had informed her, a customary sneer curling his lips.

"But of course," simpered Umbridge, voice dripping with sugary sweetness. "Those poor little misguided children need to have a semblance of normalcy and _family_ in their lives!"

Between her and Potter, he was actually hard-pressed to choose which one he hated more. Potter may be an insolent brat, but at least Severus was the authority figure. Umbridge, on the other hand… High Inquisitor appointed by the Minister of Magic himself. More like Fudge Fanatic appointed by the Panicking Politician. It even alliterated.

He stirred his cauldron just a little more viciously – Merlin knows he would never ruin one of his precious potions – as his knuckles turned white around the stirrer at the reminder. Almost done.

Corking the vial of potion, he swept off to the kitchens.

"Tippy, I would appreciate it if you can put this in Professor Umbridge's juice during dinner tonight."

Tippy bobbed his head up and down frantically, staring worshipfully up at him. "I is doing it, Master Snape."

"It is a concoction to sooth her cough problems. However, do not tell anyone of this. Professor Umbridge is highly _sensitive_ about her – _condition_ – and would not appreciate my help," Severus warned the little House Elf.

After another round of heartfelt promises, Severus felt safe to leave the kitchens.

That night, he turned up promptly for dinner, ignoring Umbridge's smile of satisfaction. Ah, how he would prove her wrong.

He watched in satisfaction as she took a long draught of her pumpkin juice – and instantly disappeared from view.

"Who did this? Who did this!" her shrill shrieks, however, still emanated from the chair she had formerly occupied.

Severus leant closer to get a better look at the tiny fairy-sized Umbridge waving her pea-sized fist. Ah, the wonders of Shrinking Solution. Pity a Voice Suppressor would have partially neutralised its effect, else he certainly would have given her both.

To his surprise, he noticed that she was sprouting an additional set of gossamer wings. Severus transferred his gaze to the person on the other side of Umbridge. Filius twirled his wand, whistling innocently.


	7. Take 6 Harry, Hermione, Ron

**Author's Note: This story will continue until I run out of people for pranks, or there are no more suggestions.**

**Take Six**

"Now, who can tell me what House Elves are?"

Harry chanced a glance at Hermione, who was fairly quivering in indignation.

"Slaves for menial labour," drawled Draco Malfoy without bothering to put up his hand.

"Very good Mr Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin. Now –"

"You know, the Muggle World abolished slavery centuries ago," Hermione informed Umbridge loudly.

Umbridge turned to fix her with an annoyed stare at the interruption. "I hardly think we can be compared to _Muggles_, Miss Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth in apopletic rage, but Umbridge cut her off. "That's quite enough. Detention, Miss Granger."

That night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, Hermione stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room. "I must not contradict a teacher!" she parroted, eyes flashing in anger. "I knew she was against _half-breeds_," she spat out the word in disgust "but this is crossing the line!"

"She crossed it ages ago," mumbled Ron.

"_Silence_!" Hermione snarled, and Ron was so stunned he forgot to reply.

She sat down with a huff in the nearest armchair and opened her bag. "Let's see how she'd like to see them around!"

Across the room, Harry sat placidly writing a letter.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I was wondering if you could teach me how to enchant inanimate objects (such as statues) to produce sounds and possibly move when someone is nearby…_

~*~*~*~*~*

The next day saw Umbridge dithering at the entrance of the Great Hall, eyeing the doors carefully. Slowly, slowly, she stretched one leg forward.

The trolls flanking the doors suddenly growled menancingly, raising their clubs.

Umbridge squeaked and fled.

She skidded to a stop in front of her classroom, backing away slowly and gaping in horror.

The statue of a werewolf leered back back her, maw agape and blood dripping.

Umbridge edged closer to the door. Now if only she could enter without it seeing her…

As if sensing her approach, the werewolf abruptly gave a long, mournful howl.

Umbridge whimpered and fled.

Under the Invisibility Cloak in a corner, the trio snickered. Harry and Ron exchanged a wary look and a silent promise. Never anger a bookworm. They know twice the number of spells you do and can think of _very_ creative ways to use them.

"That was amazingly realistic, Harry. How did you do that?" wondered Hermione.

"Oh, Sirius taped Lupin doing it," Harry replied, grinning.

They later heard that Umbridge had barricaded herself in her quarters and refused to emerge.

Needless to say, Defence against the Dark Arts was cancelled that day.


	8. Take 7 Terry

**Author's Note: Warning for a swamp of puns – nearly every billboard contains at least 3 puns, I believe my record is around 7 (depending whether you consider them separate). Have fun figuring them out.**

**Take Seven**

In the Wizarding World, there were no marches, no demonstrations, and no picketing. Any and all protests were done via Howlers, which guaranteed that the protesters were heard even if they were subsequently ignored.

Hence, it was much to their confusion that one morning, the inhabitants of Hogwarts woke up to find the castle covered in billboards.

"Something toady is going on around here," Ron read out loud, having just received a crash course on Muggle-style protests. The trio sniggered.

"Whoever who did this, did a really good job," Hermione commented, fingering the board. "This isn't a normal Sticking Charm, and the words are protected with a rune ward, so most spells won't work on them." She nodded approvingly.

Unnoticed by the Golden Trio, a figure ducked behind a tapestry, grinning at the praise.

In front of the Great Hall, another billboard was placed prominently. "No toads allowed!" Harry choked out, grinning broadly.

"Look!" Hermione pointed at the board.

Underneath the large text, someone had scribbled "or aloud!".

And there were more.

"Warning: toad crossing. Please look down at all times" was a favourite, apparently, having been placed at all major intersections where the inhabitants were sure to walk.

In front of the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom, a signboard proclaimed loudly, "Toads don't have class."

The most interesting sign they had seen all day was, however, in the strangest place. The trio had no idea how the prankster managed it, but there was a sign pinned to Umbridge's back, and everyone but she could see it.

Umbridge wondered why, every time she turned around, someone was shooting hexes at her back.

And under the cover of the shadows, Terry Boot smiled and read the last sign, "Hex me, I'm bad".


	9. Take 8 Parvati, Padma, Angelina

**Take Eight**

Just another day of hell at Hogwarts, under the High Torturer – sorry, High _Inquisitor_ Umbridge.

Dinner time in the Great Hall was a greatly anticipated event, especially if nothing major had happened for the whole week, if only because many previous pranks were conducted there.

When the doors opened, three-quarters of the student population pushed their plates away, just in case they collapsed into their dinner from laughing too hard.

A man with an official crest on his robes stood there.

Umbridge gave him a saccharine smile, rising from her seat to greet the man. "Good evening, how may we help you?"

The students were vaguely disappointed, until he opened his mouth.

"Hello, I'm from the Ministry of Magic, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Pest Advisory Bureau. Our division received a tip-off a few days ago that Hogwarts is infested with a magical pest." He glanced down at his clipboard. "I believe it refers to itself as Croakores Toadbridge?"

The students lost it at that, some toppling right off their benches as they screamed with laughter.

The sugary smile still plastered on her face, Umbridge replied. "I'm afraid you must be mistaken. There is no magical pest in Hogwarts."

"You can't catch me!" screamed a shrill voice, cutting through the chaos. Hearing that, the students settled down, ready for more drama to unfold.

The ministry official blinked at the voice. "Oh, but I would disagree, Miss Umbridge. That voice sounds like a Class A magical pest in the advanced stages of development to me."

Making sure no one else was watching, Parvati nudged Angelina lightly. When she turned to her, Parvati whispered in her ear, "Can you transfigure her bow to a toad again?"

Surprised, Angelina nevertheless pulled out her wand discreetly.

Across at the Ravenclaw table, Padma placed both hands to her mouth and blew lightly.

"Boo!" the newly-transfigured toad yelled, bouncing up and down on Umbridge's head.

"Ah, there it is!" exclaimed the ministry official brightly as Umbridge screamed.

Parvati and Padma exchanged gleeful looks.

Ventriloquism Charm combined with Voice Distortion Charm. Easy to find, and extremely useful.


	10. Take 9 Daphne

**Take Nine**

Professor Dolores Umbridge got up from her comfortable, fluffy, _pink _bed and stretched. What a beautiful morning, she mused idly, enjoying the scenic view from her sixth-floor balcony. Time to face the day!

"Today is the day those poor, _misguided _children shall be enlightened!" she told herself firmly, conveniently forgetting that she had already repeated that sentiment to herself 1,956 times before.

After that _most _inspirational pep talk, Umbridge opened her door and resolutely strode into the corridors of Hogwarts castle.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," a girl called out, waving.

"Good morning Miss Greengrass," Umbridge sang out jovially, mood soaring. Not ten minutes out of her personal quarters, and a student whom she normally ignored wished her a good morning! That must be a lucky omen.

Oh, if only she knew…

Strolling past Daphne into the Great Hall, Umbrdige missed the vindicative smirk that flitted across the girl's shadowed face.

~*~*~*~*~*

One can say Harry Potter had a _very_ bad experience with voices no one else could hear. Hence, when he heard voices hissing in the particular timbre that still brought back nightmares, his first act was to stop and stare.

"What's wrong, mate?" asked Ron obliviously through a mouthful of food, gesturing at Harry's untouched plate.

"Remember Second Year?" Harry asked tersely.

Hermione straightened, fork clattering to her plate as she whipped out her pocket mirror – the one she never went without after that fateful year. "Which direction, Harry?"

"I hope the mandrakes are grown," mumbled Ron worriedly, shoving down another forkful as though preparing himself for inevitable petrification – during which he could not eat. To a teenage boy, oh, the horror of _that_ happening.

Harry pointed silently in the direction the voices had come from, eyes closed and wand in hand.

Only then did he realise what the snakes were hissing.

"I… feel… pretty…"

Harry paused, and mentally rewound what he had just heard. "What?" he asked out loud.

"Huh?" replied Ron, clueless.

"Hem, hem," announced a too-familiar voice, right beside his ear.

Harry was so surprised that he opened his eyes and stared into the horrifying apparition before him. Umbridge, bristling in indignation, was glaring around the Great Hall, seemingly oblivious to the students dropping like flies at the sight of her.

And such was that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, saviour of the Wizarding World, fell off the bench he was previously sitting on, stiff as a board.

His last thought was, _'What did she do to her hair this time?'_

~*~*~*~*~*

"The Heiress of Slytherin approaches!"

"The Chamber of Secrets is open again!"

"I heard she was from Slytherin, that's why she's favouring them!"

"Is she a Parseltongue?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The last one seemed to be the most oft-repeated line. Umbridge scowled, striding down the corridors irritably. Students _ran_ at the sight of her, peering back at her from little hand-held mirrors with horrorstruck expressions. Those who did not run fast enough, or the unlucky few whom she caught and demanded an explanation from – they, they keeled over and laid frozen on the floor.

And for the life of her, she could not figure out why.

Was it something on her clothes? She glanced down, smoothing down her cardigan over neatly-pressed robes. There was nothing visible to her.

Then… her face? She raised a hand to touch her face nervously – and her fingers came into contact with something cold and scaly.

Attempting not to panic, Umbridge made her way to the nearest bathroom.

Her – her lovely hair, ringlets that she spent a thousand galleons perming, they _swarmed_ with snakes.

A piercing shriek rang through Hogwarts, shattering every single glassware within the castle. Needless to say, Professor Snape was not pleased.

~*~*~*~*~*

Daphne twirled her wand, carefully setting the piece of parchment with all her notes on it on fire. That should keep that pompous git Malfoy quiet for a while. Acting so sycophantic towards a toad of that calibre… it was downright disgusting for a member of the proud House of Snakes.

Had anyone looked closer at the frozen students, he would have noticed that despite them being Petrified, their eyes were still darting about nervously.

**Author's Note: I don't own "I Feel Pretty" either****.**** Request by TrueImortality for a prank by a Slytherin. Request by Princess Schatje Dreamer for "Medusa!Umbridge". Yume-chan, I hope this met your expectations (:**


	11. Take 10 Luna, ghosts

**Author's Note: Combined request for Chalcedony Rivers, skyflyte12, Princess Schatje Dreamer, and personofnoconcern3000****.**** Yume-chan, it's actually two of your numerous requests combined****.**** Kindly note that the portrayal of Luna is **_**only**_** for parody purposes, and that her background story is not canon****.**

**Take Ten**

Luna clutched her wand in her hand tightly, staring at the letter on her table. It bore the unmistakeable stamp of the Ministry of Magic.

They had arrested _Daddy_.

The Ministry had taken her mother first. Selena Lovegood had been a happily married witch, working as an apprentice spell crafter under a notable master. Fearing the creation of new _dangerous_ spells, the Ministry in Britain had issued a warrant for her arrest.

When the Aurors came for her, Selena was working on the final touches of the spell she had been planning to present as part of her thesis for her mastery. Panicking, she had accidentally deactivated the safety measures installed around the incomplete spell. The entire spell blew up in their faces.

Luna was in her room at the time, and was thrown out of the window by the force of the explosion. She was lucky to only require hospitalisation for six months. Everyone else died.

Now they wanted her father too.

Luna would never stand for that, and the Nargles would help her.

Together, they would teach that _infestation_ what it meant to touch a Lovegood.

The bell rang to signal the start of the Fourth Year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff Defence against the Dark Arts class. The students were already seated at their desks, chattering away noisily as they waited for their teacher to arrive.

A moment later, Luna breezed into the room. A few of them glanced up, and upon seeing that she was not a teacher, resumed their chatting. She smirked. Just the way she liked it.

Strolling past the teacher's desk, she slipped into her seat in the front row, and not a moment too soon, for Umbridge appeared almost instataneously, robes billowing behind her. She had obviously tried to learn Snape's intimidation techniques, except that she failed. Horribly. The billow looked more like a pathetic flap by a dying housefly.

"Hem hem," Umbridge opened her lecture with her favourite phrase.

The cacophony did not cease in the least.

Frowning, she tried again. "Hem hem."

"Where is Umbitch?" One of the students asked loudly. So loudly that, in fact, Professor McGonagall who just happened to be walking past the classroom had to smother a smile.

Umbridge fumed. How dare they mutilate her name!

"I don't think she's coming. Let's go!" With a cheer, the students rushed out of the classroom, eager to enjoy their newfound freedom.

"Excuse me!" Umbridge trilled shrilly. "I am right here! A hundred points from every student who dares to step out of those doors!"

Nobody stopped.

Angry now, Umbridge picked up her wand to cast a spell. Or tried to, anyway. Her hand went through the wand.

For a moment she stared stupidly at her fingers, fingertips actually disappearing through the table.

Experimentally, she wiggled her fingers. They slipped through the wood as though they had never been there.

Umbridge did what she did best: she screamed.

Except this time, no one else heard her.

After calming down, Umbridge came to her very obvious conclusion. She had passed on, like Professor Binns. Being a ghost, she could naturally no longer touch her belongings. It was completely, utterly natural. She even nodded her head, so immersed was she in her belief.

Then she remembered Nearly Headless Nick, whose head fell off every time he nodded too vigorously, and immediately stopped.

There remained one important question. When, exactly, had she had passed on?

She thought long and hard, but drew a blank. Certainly, she could touch things when she woke up that morning, and she had had breakfast, during which one of those horrible ghosts came through the table and terrified her into squeaking.

It must have been the shock, she decided. The sudden shock caused her heart to give way and her soul to leave her body and become a ghost, with her being none the wiser. Umbridge resolved to check the Great Hall for her deceased body at the earliest opportunity and to reassure those poor, frightened little children that their dearest Defence against the Dark Arts professor was still there.

Then a stray thought struck her.

"Wait, if I'm a ghost, why couldn't anyone else see me just now?"

She glanced down at herself again just to check. And did a double-take.

There was nothing there.

Frantic, Umbridge spun around twice, tripped over nothing and fell down – through the floor – and into the bathroom located below her classroom.

She stared into the bathroom mirror. Nothing stared back.

Umbridge stumbled through the entirety of Hogwarts castle in a daze, trying to find someone, anyone who could see her. There! There were a few ghosts up in front!

"Hello!" she yelled, waving her arms maniacally and generally acting like an insane asylum escapee.

The trio of ghosts ignored her.

Umbridge gaped. All the books said ghosts could see each other, even the newly-dead. Were the books wrong? No, no way, those books were published by the Ministry of Magic! There was no way they could be wrong!

Then – then that meant…

"You are a figment of my imagination," intoned the nearest ghost suddenly, before drifting off through a wall.

"Begone!" cried the other ghosts in unison. "Begone!"

Umbridge stood rooted to the ground.

A figment of someone's imagination… did that really exist?

Did she exist?

She was real, Umbridge reassured herself. She was real, because yesterday she had steak and kidney pie for dinner, and a glass of… of… as though blown away by the wind, her memories were vague and hazy.

The last thing she remembered was a pair of malevolent eyes staring down at her.

The next morning, Hogwarts awoke to find all the house points in the negatives.

Umbridge hummed dazedly, missed the dirty looks every teacher sent her. The scorebook kept by the school stated clearly that she had deducted every single one of those points.

Luna Lovegood smirked, sending off a letter bearing the signature – forged, of course – and stamp – stolen, of course – of the Undersecretary to the Minister denying the arrest of Xenophilius Lovegood. Daddy would have been _so_ proud.


	12. Take 11 Colin

**Author's Note: Another combined request for skyflyte12 who asked for Umbridge/Snape, Volixia669 who wanted a voice distortion charm, and Will0Whisper who wanted a speech impediment.**

**Shotacon: A female who is romantically interested in innocent young boys. Often used as comic relief in animé shows.**

**Take 11**

"Mr Creevey," the honeyed voice hissed into his ear, and Dennis jumped a mile into the air. "May I know exactly _what_ are you doing?"

Trembling, Dennis turned to face his doom – otherwise known as the new Headmistress and the only one who had usurped her position. "Taking – taking photographs, m'am." His voice shook, and with good reason.

"I see." Her sugary tone had not changed in the least, yet Dennis flinched as though physically struck. There was an Educational Decree coming out because of him, he just knew it. He had taken too many incriminating photographs for her to let him go now.

Umbridge had no idea how photographic evidence of her doing unspeakable _evil_ things – such as having long discussions with Argus Filch and making Professor Trelawney cry – had found its way into the Quibbler and into the hands of the public, but she could make a fair guess. After all, there were only two avid photographers in the castle, and she was clutching the arm of one of them. It did not take a genius to figure out who the culprit was.

It did, however, take Umbridge three months.

"Well, Mr Creevey," she crooned, breathing into his ear and causing Dennis to shudder in disgust at the proximity of the Queen Toad. "Shall we have a little _look_ at what absolutely _fascinating_ pieces of falsehood you have stored in that device of yours?"

Dennis was struck with indecision. What could he do? He could not hand over his camera to his worst enemy, yet she could do much, much worse than give him detention. After all, she was one of Fudge's sycophants, and that man was the Minister of Magic, the almighty supreme power over Magical Britain. The King Toad to her Queen Toad. She could destroy all his future prospects just by breathing his name into Fudge's ear.

Umbridge was not so patient when her prize was so near. Like an amphibian that had caught sight of a particularly juicy fly, she pounced. "Give me that!" she screeched, pink nails digging deep into his shoulder and thrashing violently. Dennis desperately held the camera as far away from her as he could, praying silently for a miracle.

There was a loud crash as a nearby suit of armour conveniently toppled over. Umbridge straightened, eyes narrowing at the disturbance. "Who's there?" she shrieked, her grip on him loosening slightly.

Seizing his chance, Dennis fled from the mad maybe-pedophile-definitely-shotacon woman.

_The voice distortion charm is a nifty little charm often used in pranks. All words spoken by the victim will be replaced by their direct opposites, whenever possible._

_In reality, effects are similar to the game commonly known as "Opposite Day"__._

_The charm will wear off in sixteen hours if not renewed._

Colin closed the book with a snap and smirked.

Somewhere in the castle, Umbridge sneezed.

Umbridge sneered as Harry Potter rushed into class, two seconds after the bell rang. Hot on his heels was Draco Malfoy, who skidded to a stop in front of her and nodded politely. Umbridge smiled sweetly. Such a well-mannered young gentleman, unlike that half-blood brute. "Twenty points from Gryffindor! Thirty points to Slytherin!"

Well, at least, that was what she wanted to say.

What actually came out was, "Twenty points to Gryffindor! Thirty points from Slytherin!"

The class gaped at her in utter shock.

Umbridge blinked, wondering what was wrong and why the young Malfoy was frowning at her. She mentally rewound her sentence a few times – she was never good at prepositions – before realising her error. Now to correct that mistake… how many must she add back again?

Did anyone mention that she needed her toes to count anything more than ten?

After a short while – that was actually half an hour later, but the class was too stunned to remind her – she cleared her throat again. "Hem hem, as I was saying, fifty points from Gryffindor, forty points to Slytherin!"

Except, of course, it came out the opposite.

Pansy Parkinson raised up her hand in confusion.

"Speak, girl," Umbridge tried to say, but what came out was, "Shut up, boy."

Pansy snapped her mouth shut, anger and shock mirrored in her eyes.

"My father will hear of this," snarled Draco.

The bell rang.

Needless to say, Umbridge was not having a good day.

Snape mentally rolled his eyes as Umbridge stalked past. "Stalking young boys again, _Headmistress?_" he drawled, referring to her obsession with Harry Potter.

Umbridge spun around. Could _he_ be the one who knocked over that suit of armour, allowing the insufferable Creevey boy to escape her clutches?

Eyes narrowing, she advanced on him. The menacing effect was totally ruined, however, by the fact that she was over a head shorter than him.

Hidden behind a pillar, Colin twirled his wand, the book open to another page.

Pink, fluffy wings exploded out of Umbridge's back, causing her to overbalance and pitch forward. Snape jumped backwards in horror, but she collided with his legs and flailed about like an oversized rotund. Both of them went crashing to the ground, and to their collective horror, she started to sing.

"Her eyes are as red as a rotten pickled toad, her hair is as light as a whiteboard. You wish she was yours, she's really earthly, the villain who gave in to the Light Lady."

Snape wondered if he could Obliviate himself.


	13. Take 12 Justin, Ernie

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry I'm really busy this year, and when I finally got a break three months ago someone accidentally gave me a concussion… which definitely wasn't conducive to writing. I'll try to update as much as possible in these two weeks, and rest assured I **_**have**_** seen all your requests, but this story has to go on hiatus until the first week of December.**

**All the review reply links are now "outdated", so especially for those of you who disabled your PM feature, I can't reply personally to your review unfortunately, but thanks a lot for reviewing!**

**For Princess Schatje Dreamer, who wanted to see Umbridge get a taste of her own medicine. And Will0Whisper, who asked for green hair. And for all of you who wanted to see Hufflepuffs.**

**Take 12**

"Let's stay away from him."

"We'll be good now, I promise!"

"Please don't send us to him!"

"Can it be?"

"What happened?"

"Maybe Mrs Norris is secretly a cat Animagus who decided to return to human form after realising that she was in love with Filch, with whom she had lived the past twelve years."

Everybody stared at the last speaker, Ginny Weasley.

The students were curious and terrified. And they had a right to be.

Hogwarts, beware.

Argus Filch was over the moon.

And he favoured no students.

… … … … … … …

The fifth-year Hufflepuff boys crowded around one of their own, shielding him protectively from the rest of the world. The fifth-year girls stood around awkwardly, eyes darting towards the door as though expecting someone to burst into the dormitory at any moment.

Wayne Hopkins, still hiccupping from sobs, lay on his bed while Ernie gently rubbed Murtlap essence into his bare back, hating every shudder that came from the body underneath his hands even as he tried to put the minimum amount of pressure possible on the angry red welts.

"Eton would never have allowed this," Justin muttered vindictively. For so long he had struggled, performing to the best of his ability, and for what? A teacher who dishonoured the very mantle she had take upon?

Justin was a perfect gentleman, but enough was enough.

Ernie turned his head, eyes glittering, and Justin knew his best friend felt the same way.

Nobody laid a hand on a Hufflepuff.

… … … … … … …

Screams echoed around the dungeons.

Mindful of the _last_ time he had heard that particular timbre, Snape stalked into his office to reinforce the Unbreakable Charms on his precious glass jars. In the few seconds he left his class unattended…

Neville's cauldron exploded. Draco gained a lot more feathers and a lot less limbs, courtesy of a Canary Cream – vanilla version. Hermione received a new hairdo. Ron became even more gangly than he used to be, with four additional appendages sticking out of his torso.

"Gives a whole new meaning to 'spiderman'," Dean muttered.

It was sheer pandemonium.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on who you asked – a wailing Umbridge chose that exact moment to open the door to the potions classroom – and was promptly hit in the face by a stray spell.

Or maybe just a bit more than one. Several stray spells, as a matter of fact.

Or maybe all the students suddenly missed their intended aim and somehow all the spells hit a single target.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Snape thundered as he strode out of his office.

Silence.

"Promoting inter-house spellwork cooperation, sir," Harry informed him after a moment.

Snape spared a glance for the dangerously wobbling, snivelling mess of feathers and tar.

"Go ahead."

A moment later, it became very evident why Umbridge was caterwauling around the dungeons.

The potions classroom door slammed open again. Snape, about to tell off whoever who dared to trespassed on his territory with such uncouth attitudes, snapped his mouth shut.

A disembodied hand floated calmly into the classroom, nearing the heap that began frothing at the mouth at the sight, blubbering and looking even more disgustingly pathetic than before, if indeed such a thing was possible.

The students gave the hand – and especially the whip adorned with long, wicked sharp spikes in its grasp – a wide berth. Yet their desire to see what was happening warred with their sense of self-preservation, so unconsciously they lined up in two rows, leaving an aisle for the disembodied hand to float down but also giving themselves the best view.

The whip cracked the air threateningly.

Neville jumped.

Oodles of Miserable Goo, or OMG for short, wobbled.

When the hand and the whip finally approached within striking distance of Umbridge, they stopped moving. For a moment both simply hovered in place.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins were unable to tear their eyes away. It was like watching the Hogwarts Express crash. Horrifying, but fascinating.

Glowing words appeared on the ground.

"You. Will. Never. Touch. Us. Again."

"Treason! Blasphemy! I will expel you!" Umbridge finally managed to get her voice to work again.

"Filch. Will. Never. Touch. Another. Student."

"How dare you!" Umbridge shrieked in newfound decibels. Behind her, the nearest cauldron shook alarmingly. Giving the cauldron a deeply disturbed look, the Gryffindors around it moved away, hands gripping their wands.

"Or. Else."

Umbridge's voice had gone completely shrill in her indignation; she even forgot to be frightened. "Heresy!"

The sudden sound of splintering.

Several voices cried out at once, "Protego!"

Broken cauldron pieces slammed into hastily-erected shields, crashing onto the floor. Some of the incomplete potion splattered onto the shields as well, but most of it landed on the one person who did not think of raising her wand.

"Maybe she's secretly a Squib," Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Harry and Hermione. "That would explain why she's so friendly with Filch, and why she never touches her wand."

"Not to mention her ridiculous reliance on books that contradict even her own _precious_ _Ministry-_endorsed books," Hermione huffed.

Ron turned wide eyes on Harry. "Did Hermione… just insult a book?"

Another ear-splitting scream turned their attention back to the main spectacle.

Harry blinked.

The disembodied hand was still floating in mid-air, the whip half-buried in the ground. As it drew itself slowly out of the flagstones, Harry's eyes narrowed. There was no mark left behind. In fact, the flagstones were unblemished, for all that a supposed whip had just embedded itself in the ground.

Umbridge drew herself up from the ground, trying to look important even with potion dripping from her clothes and shivers racking her body.

Which was entirely green. A hideous, slimy neon green.

Privately, Harry thought the colour suited her better. Whoever heard of a pink toad?

"Severus! Severus, you must help me," Umbridge implored, probably the only reason why she had come running to the dungeons in the first place.

But Snape was no longer looking at her. Instead, he had pulled out a notebook from somewhere and was frantically scribbling in it, mumbling to himself about the properties of skin and what could be the cause of its reaction with the potion. Then he glanced up cursorily, noticed that her hair was the same shade of green, and scratched out a few lines while muttering about the similarities between hair and skin.

Sniffing, Umbridge shakily drew out a frilly pink handkerchief from her pocket, and blew her nose loudly.

"You're pathetic," the snot sneered.

Umbridge dropped the handkerchief in horror and shock.

As she turned to run, she tripped over the puddle of potion she had been standing in, her voluminous skirt billowing upwards and proving once and for all to anyone unlucky enough to be standing behind her, that every single inch of her skin had now turned that shade of green. And that she truly adored pink, frilly items.

Pansy Parkinson whimpered and clawed at her eyes as though burnt.

… … … … … … …

Outside the half-closed door, Justin and Ernie dispelled the illusion and hastily ducked behind the nearest tapestry just as the door burst fully open and a hysterical Umbridge tore out of the room.

Umbridge, beware.

Hogwarts looked after their own.


	14. Take 13 Hedwig, Crookshanks

**Inspired by the HP7.5 movie, and dedicated to my cool new owl tumbler. I know it's merchandise. Whatever. Hedwig is a cool owl. I dare you to say otherwise to her face.**

**Take 13**

Hedwig bristled as Harry slouched into the Owlery, unconsciously cradling his arm protectively and glancing around in paranoia. As he lifted his arm to tie another letter around her leg, the sleeve of his too-large robes fell down, exposing thin red lines barely scabbed over.

It was the last feather that broke the owl's back.

How dare that woman touch _her_ Harry?

… … … … … … …

Hedwig wanted revenge. Being the smart owl she was, she knew she could not accomplish the feat alone. To do that, she needed the help of a professional. And being the smart owl she was, she knew exactly who to ask.

At twelve midnight on the dot, Hedwig fluttered noiselessly into the Gryffindor Common Room. A pair of beady yellow eyes followed her path, its owner having received the message. Landing, the snowy owl proffered her gift for parlay – a single dead rat.

There was a swish of a ginger tail, and the rat disappeared down the gullet of a nimble Kneazle, who licked his paws contentedly. The gift was received and deemed adequate.

"Hoot," said Hedwig.

"Meow," replied Crookshanks.

"Hoot hoot hoot," offered Hedwig.

"Meow _meow_ **meow** meow," Crookshanks made his views known.

"Hoot hoot, hoot hoot hoot, hoot hoot hoot, hoot," suggested Hedwig.

Crookshanks thought for a long while. "Meow," he agreed.

It was the start of a _beautiful_ partnership.

… … … … … … …

The next morning, Hermione watched in abject confusion as Crookshanks stalked past her, heading directly to the Head Table, and proceeded to rub himself against Umbridge's leg.

About to kick the offending animal away, Umbridge stopped.

"Meow," Crookshanks whined, giving Umbridge his best puppy dog eyes. Or was it kitty cat eyes?

"Soooooo cute," Umbridge gushed, picking him up and setting him on her lap. "There, there, little kitty, how about some milk? Then later we could go pick out a nice fluffy pink bow for you. A pretty bow for a pretty girl. What do you think?"

To her right, McGonagall suppressed a wince.

Crookshanks mentally revised his opinion of the Toad-Woman a notch lower. Pretty girl, indeed. His eyes found a lone occupant on the rafters of the Great Hall and he nodded slightly, disguising the motion as a nuzzle against Umbridge's hand.

Time to start the fun.

… … … … … … …

Umbridge sat in utter silence, hoping to escape before the students noticed her plight.

Then somebody snickered.

Everyone looked up at the Head Table. Their mouths dropped open.

Umbridge was no longer a pink monstrosity. But it was not much better. She was now a pink monster. To be precise, she was now a sparkling, glittering, unicorn in a blinding shade of bright pink.

Several students sank to their knees at the sight of her, clutching their eyes. They might have looked as if they were praying to a goddess. That was, if the person making the comparison was suffering from a concussion.

No wonder people thought she was invisible at first, looking at that _thing_ was impossible.

The visible pink unicorn tottered unsteadily to her legs, deciding to make a run for it while she still could. Crookshanks wound between her new legs, causing Umbridge to stumble, and he neatly leapt out of the way as she faceplanted into a suspicious puddle in the middle of the floor. How that puddle got there, no one knew, but everyone could have sworn it was not there a moment ago.

Crookshanks waved his tail innocently.

… … … … … … …

"Where is she?" boomed Hagrid, a maniacal grin on his face and a large net in his hand. "Where is this mythical pengoad the students are talking about?"

"What's a pengoad?" Harry asked his friends softly.

"A pengoad is said to be the mother of a basilisk, where instead of a chicken and toad there is a penguin and toad" It is said to be twenty times as dangerous as a basilisk, and no one has ever seen it before," Hermione whispered extremely quickly. "It's not even listed in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_." She sniffed as though horrified by the omission.

"Well," Ron began, "If no one has seen one before, it doesn't really fit the 'where to find them' criteria for the book."

Hermione glared.

Hagrid stomped on, wondering where the mysterious pengoad was. He was so glad some Hufflepuff – such a kind boy, really – had come running to show him photographs of a creature that morphed between a penguin and a toad. And had a little pink bow on top of its head. So scary. Brr.

… … … … … … …

"What is it, Crookshanks?" Hermione asked, bending down to pick the part-Kneazle up. Crookshanks nuzzled her hand for a while, before swiping his tail and carelessly dislodging the pile of woolly hats she had knitted for the house elves. He let out a loud meow, blinking pointedly at her.

Hermione stared at the pile of clothing, and then at Crookshanks. Then she stood up.

"I'll be right back."

… … … … … … …

Severus Snape scowled as a knock came at his door, getting to his feet slowly. If it was that blasted toad again…

He opened the door to find… nobody.

Frowning, he glanced around, spotting a note on the ground. With a wave of his wand, the note flew into his hand. He scowled again. It had better not been some student's idea of a joke, or he would skin them alive and use their blood for potions ingredients.

The scowl morphed into a puzzled look, and then a delighted grin that would have frightened young children to tears. Maybe that was why Dumbledore didn't dare to let Snape see baby Harry.

Ah, he had a volunteer for his experimental potions. Lovely.

… … … … … … …

They never did find Umbridge, until one day some hungry students sneaked into the kitchens for a snack and spotted a familiar pink bow sitting atop a house elf's head. Said house elf was slumped over a tiny table with another, empty Butterbeer bottles strewn about, snoring loudly. The other house elves sniffed and gave them a wide berth.

**Requests**

FairyQueenOfSparks: "get snape to slip her a potion that turns her into a house elf, get hermione's help. she must be wearing the invisibility cloak when she goes to see snape."

Princess Schatje Dreamer: "unicorn"

Tsubasa no Ryu: "Animals of Hogwarts"

skyflyte12: "Umbridge the penguin-toad hybrid"

bookworm19065: "Hagrid, a hufelpuff, and an evil first year"

**Special note to Deviate's Fish: I'm sorry, I've seen neither **_**South Park**_** nor **_**Stand and Deliver**_** before and no idea where to find either, so I'm not quite sure how to fill your request. Can you – or anyone, really – explain the context of the following to me?**

**Prompt: I hope you've watched South Park episode 1205, which parodied Stand and Deliver (film), where there was a line I hoped Umbridge would use: "How do I reach these keeds?"**


End file.
